Best Laid Plans II     An Inferior Moon
by Ticklefish
Summary: It was all going so well. Chris and Jill were together and they, along with Claire and Sheva, were about to head to Austria to take down a mysterious enemy. And then it went wrong.. Rated M for mild sexual content, please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon

by Ticklefish

* * *

><p>"This is insane.." muttered Chris.<p>

"Oh quit complaining," said the woman sitting opposite him, "you asked for it."

Chris Redfield frowned. He was expecting more sympathy. He picked up a small piece of paper, closely examined it and put it back down again. He had done this a few times before, each time hoping that the figures scrawled on it made more sense.

"It's like they think we're tourists so they can charge us whatever they like." he grumbled, waving in a vexed manner at the check.

His companion raised her glass to her lips.

"We are tourists." she replied before taking a leisurely sip.

"No, we're not."

"No, but we're pretending to be. Just relax."

With a snort, Chris threw down the check, having again picked it up and lent back in his chair. Behind her sunglasses, his companion watched his closely. Secretly Jill Valentine was very amused. They were undercover in Austria following a vague trail that may or may not be a complete waste of time. The Hermit Club, a nondescript organization, had recently proved to have connections to Umbrella. What those connections were, Chris and Jill had come to find out. They had yet to uncover anything of any substance and Chris was getting more and more frustrated.

But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.

They had first come across the Hermit Club when Chris and his then-partner had been attacked by zombies. Chris didn't like zombies and was very unhappy that they were still around, having gone to so much effort to destroy them previously.

But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.

The trail had lead to a building on the outskirts of Vienna and, for the past few days, the two had been watching it for anything suspicious. So far, no-one had entered the building, no-one had left. Nothing of any interest had happened at all. Chris, ever a man of action, kept having to restrain himself from running across from the pavement cafe they were sitting at and breaking in.

But Jill knew that wasn't why he was so grumpy today.

A light breeze swept along the cobbles. As it passed the table, it lifted Jill's skirt. Not by much, but enough to give Chris a fleeting glimpse between her legs. Jill had decided not to wear any underwear today. She brought her drink to her lips and hid her smile behind the glass.

Jill knew why Chris was so grumpy today.

* * *

><p>An ordinary door. Paneled, off-white, silver handle, brass hinges, spyhole, chain, locks, all the usual paraphernalia that a door should have.<p>

There was a thump on the other side. Then a scrabbling sound. A muffled, possibly rude word. A second, deeper thump. A jingling. A creak and Claire Redfield stepped through.

She stopped in the doorway, turned back and, with a look of distaste, picked up a large pile of papers from where she had dropped them on the floor a few seconds previously. Letting the door close behind her, she dumped the pile onto a table and let out a long, weary sigh. She kicked off her shoes and let her jacket fall gracelessly on top of them. She reached up to undo her ponytail and, as her hair fell down amongst her shoulders, reflected that she never had all this fuss at Terra Save.

Three weeks ago, it had all seemed so simple, so straight-forward. Claire, her partner Jill, her brother Chris and Chris's partner Sheva were readying to fly to Austria to find out what the Hermit Club was up to and stop it.

Then had come Sheva's fall from grace.

Desperate to avoid any scandal, the West African division of the BSAA had suspended her and had handed over her investigation to other agents. The North American division, no doubt prompted by BSAA West Africa, had demanded that Chris, Jill and Claire return to them.

Jill had not been best pleased. She and Chris carried enough clout in the organization to be able to get some immediate leave and were, as far as their superiors knew, taking a well-earned break in town.

Claire may have been Chris's brother but, despite her history, she hadn't built up as good a reputation as the so-called Hero Of Kijuju. After a lot of arguing, BSAA NA had agreed to let her stay in Africa for a while. But she had to go through all manner of training and form-filling and inductions and presentations and this and that and the other. Everyday was spent in one office or another and they were starting to blend into each other. Claire's feet ached and her brain ached in sympathy.

In the flat's small kitchen, Claire rummaged through the fridge and, after only a second's hesitation, decided to pinch one of Chris's beers. Holding the bottle by the neck, she considered washing up a glass but decided to give it a miss. She was normally very house-proud but with work throwing everything at her over the last few days, she found it hard to get the motivation.

Not my stupid apartment anyway, she thought, trudged back into the lounge and collapsed on the sofa.

The pile of paperwork on the table loomed ominously. On an impulse, Claire extended a leg and kicked it off. The papers tumbled to the floor, forming a heap that was still big but was somehow less intimidating. With a grunt of satisfaction, Claire stretched out on the sofa, had a mouthful of beer and started to sulk in earnest.

* * *

><p>"Ten."<p>

"Eleven."

"Really?" Chris was incredulous, "who was the eleventh one?"

"The Midtown Stabbings."

Chris waved a finger at Jill.

"That doesn't count. That was solved by Uniform."

"I helped out. They wouldn't have linked him to that golf club without me."

"Are you in the record?"

"No, but.."

"Then it doesn't count."

Chris leaned back in his chair and grinned. Jill shrugged and, before Chris could react, threw a slice of carrot at him. They had been at the cafe for about two hours now and had had to order some food to allay suspicion. Combined with the fabulous weather, it had served to relax the two and they had fallen to discussing old times.

Across the street, the building still stood just as quiet and just as dull as before.

Sooner or later, Jill thought, they would have to step up their investigation and see about making their own way inside. But for now, Jill was enjoying being with Chris too much. They were officially on vacation after all. In a different country admittedly, but still.. Jill was with the man she loved, and who loved her back. For the time being, she could almost imagine she was actually was on vacation with him.

The Hermit Club could just wait for a little while longer. She picked up a second carrot slice and took careful aim.

She was having a fabulous time.

* * *

><p>Claire was not having a fabulous time.<p>

She was onto her third bottle of beer and her mood was getting dark.

Her third bottle of beer...huh...Chris's bottle of beer, more like.

The apartment was one of a handful the BSAA kept for visitors from other branches. As a junior agent, Claire didn't qualify for one and had ended up staying with Chris. She was grateful for his generosity but she had lived with him enough when they were children. Now she was older, things were a bit more awkward and they found themselves fighting to avoid resorting to old behaviors. It was only the other day that Claire had to almost physically restrain herself from turning the hot water on in the kitchen when Chris was in the shower.

She giggled, remembering his cry of outraged annoyance. As she did so, the drink she had in her mouth went down the wrong way. She quickly sat up, coughing, her eyes tearing and, as she did so, a collection of small change fell from her skirt pocket into the back of the sofa.

"Oh, great.." she muttered once she got her breath back.

Reaching down behind the cushion, she grimaced as her fingers encountered one coin, a pen, a second coin, an anonymous piece of plastic that appeared to have no use whatsoever, a third coin and something lacy.

Claire sat back and examined her find. It was mostly black with bits of red, it was fairly thin and there wasn't much of it. Her mind fogged with alcohol, it took Claire a few moments to work out exactly what the item was. Suddenly it clicked into place and she hurled it from her.

It fell to the floor a few feet away. Claire could feel it glaring at her. She should have realized earlier. Jill had been spending a lot of time there recently.

Neither she nor Chris knew that Claire knew they were now an item and Claire had had to find all manner of reasons not to be in the apartment when Jill was. She was happy for her brother, very happy in fact, but the wall between the two bedrooms were thin and..well.. She was almost glad that she had to spend so much time at the office.

It slowly dawned to Claire that if Jill's underwear..her mind was startled at thinking those two particular words together..if her underwear..she couldn't bring herself to think the words 'panties' or 'lingerie'..if her underwear was in the depths of the sofa that meant she had had to take it off. On the sofa. Which meant she and Chris were most likely..

On the sofa Claire was now lying on..

Moving as carefully as she could, trying not to touch more than she had to, Claire quickly got up. Once upright, she swayed a little and held onto the door frame to support herself.

It was just so unfair! Why didn't she have someone? Why didn't she have her own sofa and her own person to make love to on it?

She walked slowly into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Reaching in for the last of the beer (Chris's bloody beer!) she ran through her head all the people she had almost been with. The usual high-school crushes, complete with the usual high-school heartbreaks. Then there was Leon.  
>Leon Kennedy and Claire had run into each other in Raccoon City and had made a narrow escape from all kinds of nasty things. Once he had realized that the situation was more than his usual police training had allowed for, he had opened up a bit more and they had gotten on well. Claire sighed. After Raccoon, Leon had gone his own way and they had only spoken in passing. She had pretty much given up on him.<p>

Then there was Steve. Claire couldn't find the bottle opener and could feel the tears forming in her eyes from sheer frustration. No, not frustration. Steve was a lovely boy. Kind, charming, a little naive and not exactly unattractive. Claire had really started to warm to him. And then he'd died. No, he had been murdered. And there was nothing she could have done to save him. Claire wiped a tear from her eye, her drink forgotten. Steve didn't deserve to die but he had just the same. She had been left alone. Again.

And then she ran into Leon again. Agent Leon, now, working for the President of all things. They had spent a few precious moments together stopping another zombie incident..and then he was gone again. Oh, she had smiled at the time. She had let him go and get on with his work. But inside..inside she had hurt so badly..

Claire became aware that her foot was wet. Her floodgates had opened and she had been crying tears that had been pent up for ages. Forcefully bringing her mind back to the here and now, she grabbed a tissue and wiped her face.

She looked at her still unopened drink, then through the archway at the pile of paperwork that needed going through and the sofa she knew she could never sit on again.

Hell with it, she thought, I'm going to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon

by Ticklefish

* * *

><p>"You know, he went bowling with us once."<p>

"Who?"

"Wesker. Of course, he was Captain Wesker then."

Jill and Chris had decided to try the rear of the building, the front having proved unrewarding. As they got up from their table, Jill had linked her arm with Chris's and the two had set off at a leisurely stroll.

"I find that hard to believe." said Jill dubiously.

"No, it's true. It makes sense in a way. Nobody would have worked for him if they knew what he was really like."

"I guess...so what happened?"

"It was a few days before you came to us. We had a game against Bravo. We won, of course."

"No, I meant what happened with him?"

"Not a lot. He wasn't very good and kept getting annoyed. I suppose if we'd known what he was really capable of, we probably would have let him win."

"Not working with him in the first place would have been a better idea." pointed out Jill.

Chris laughed.

"Yeah.."

They walked in silence for a few steps.

"I can beat that," Jill said, "do you remember my hair back then?"

Chris paused. The thing he remembered most about her hair in those days was the way it framed her face so beautifully. A nice thing to say but probably not the best thing right now.

"Yes..?" he ventured.

"Guess what shampoo I used to use."

"Er.." Chris was out of his depth.

"I used Kerashine."

Chris looked blank.

Jill smiled and shook her head.

"It was made by Umbrella." she explained.

Chris stopped dead and, almost of their own accord, his eyes drifted to her hair. The movement did not go unnoticed by Jill.

"Don't worry, it was made by a different division. It was completely safe. Pretty good too."

She looked thoughtful.

"The cosmetics section collapsed along with the main company," she continued, "even though they had nothing to do with the T-Virus or B.O.W.'s or anything. Thousands of people lost their jobs for no good reason."

"Stopping the manufacture of bioweapons is a pretty good reason." commented Chris.

"Oh certainly," agreed Jill, "but it makes you think."

Chris could think of nothing more to say and they resumed their walk.

* * *

><p>Claire could think of nothing to say.<p>

She was asleep, her brow unfurrowed and a very faint snore emanating from her lips. On the table by the bed, a teddy bear in a miniature leather jacket was bearing mute witness, the only other person in the room.

In Claire's dreams, however, there was one other. She rolled over onto her other side and, in her sleep, said just one single, solitary word.

"Leon.."

* * *

><p>It has been said that, no matter how decorative a building may be at the front, the back will always be dull and functional.<p>

Every building needs somewhere to store the bins and somewhere for the contractors to come in without their appearance upsetting the delicate sensibilities of the clients. Although Chris and Jill still had no idea just what the purpose of this building was, the back provided no surprises. There were two dumpsters, a short concrete ramp and a door. The door was grey and, save for a keyhole halfway up, featureless and blank.

Chris opened the lid of the dumpster nearest him.

"Nothing in this one," he said, "what about yours?"

Jill closed the lid of the second dumpster.

"Dog-ends and a twig. Nothing more." she replied.

"Well," said Chris, his eyes gleaming at the thought of some mayhem at last, "I guess we'll be breaking in tonight then."

Jill nodded and scanned the area, looking for any potential issues. As she did so, a scream could be heard from behind the door. There was a muffled shot and the scream abruptly cut off.

In a flash, the two had drawn their guns from their hiding places. Chris listened at the door, Jill standing guard. After a moment, he shook his head.

"Nothing." he said.

"In?" asked Jill.

"In."

Jill rummaged through her bag and, upon producing a small lockpick, started work on the door. She had learnt to pick locks years ago and could do it almost without really thinking about it. One of her colleagues in S.T.A.R.S. had found it hilarious and had given her the most annoying nickname. She wondered what he was doing now..there was a clunk, more felt than heard.

Jill slowly pushed the door open while Chris covered her. The corridor on the other side was empty for a few meters and then turned to the right.

"Ready?" Chris asked.

Jill put her pick away and retrieved her gun.

"Ready." she replied.

Keeping their eyes open and their weapons ready, they moved in. The door closed behind them and, just on the edge of hearing, there was a very faint 'snick' as it locked.

* * *

><p>Eric Carpenter sat at his desk, bored rigid.<p>

What paperwork he had to do had been done and, this late at night, the chances of anyone coming into the building were practically zero. He might get perhaps two phone calls the entire shift.

Technically, the BSAA was open all day every day but, although there were quite often some people in the different departments doing whatever it was they did, the reception was usually dead. Eric resisted the night shifts as often as he could but there were times, such as now, where he didn't have much choice. He flicked idly through a much-thumbed magazine. He'd already read the articles several times but there were one or two women worth looking at. Eric paused.

There was an idea..

He looked around, making sure that there was no-one in the area. There was a CCTV camera but it could only see the front of the desk, not the back. Or to be more precise, it couldn't see whatever was on the monitor screen.

Eric pressed some buttons on his keyboard and paused before pressing the last one. He took one final look around..no-one anywhere..Eric had the entire place to himself. He pressed the last button and leaned back in his chair.

On the screen were a collection of pictures. They were of assorted people but they all had two things in common. The first was what the people in the pictures were doing to themselves and to each other. The second was the person who was in each and every one.

Eric smiled to himself.

"Hello Sheva." he said.

* * *

><p>I really wish I'd brought my SMG, thought Jill.<p>

As soon as the door had locked behind them, both Chris and Jill had tried to reopen it. But it was stuck fast. On the inside, the door was featureless with no handle and no lock. Chris had tried to bash it down but all he had achieved was a series of scuff marks. It seemed the only way out was to go further in.

"Well...this is a familiar situation." commented Chris wryly.

"Two pistols, four clips..at least in Arklay we had knives." Jill added.

I really wish she'd brought that SMG, thought Chris.

A few weeks previously, Jill had uncovered a sub-machine pistol that, against all logic, had an unlimited amount of ammo. As long as the trigger was held down, it would simply never stop firing. Jill had decided against bringing it with her. They could probably have been able to bring it into the country somehow, but it came with a lot of unpleasant emotional connections.

"It's a shame you didn't bring.." Chris began.

"Don't start, Chris. Please. Let's just move out and see what we have to deal with."

Without waiting for a reply, she walked away from the door and down the corridor. Mentally Chris shook his head. Jill seemed happy at long last, but sooner or later she would have to face her demons. Chris just hoped she would let him be there when she did so.

Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, Chris set off after her.

The corridor was long and twisty but otherwise completely featureless. The two walked down it side by side. They were quiet, their minds alert for the slightest danger. Eventually, the corridor turned a sharp left and terminated in a door with smoked glass panels. The door was unlocked and, moving cautiously, Jill and Chris went through.

The room on the other side was narrow and long with two long rows of plants. The plants were under bright fluorescent tubes and had an assortment of pipes and cables coming out of the soil. Inset into the wall at irregular intervals were a series of fans. They were working erratically, sometimes spinning, sometimes not.

"Marijuana, eh?" Jill commented, "Maybe it should be the Happy Hermit Club."

Chris kneeled down to examine the plants more closely.

"This isn't weed. I think you'd better take a look at this."

Jill squatted on her heels. As she did, the fans kicked in for a few seconds, bending the plants back ever so slightly. The breeze caught Jill's skirt, making her jump. Her eyes grew wide.

"Recognize them?" asked Chris.

Jill stood back up, a thoughtful frown on her face.

"They're Green Herbs, aren't they?" he added.

It wasn't really a question.

Green Herbs were rare, but both Chris and Jill had had plenty of experience of them. The leaves, when turned into a fine powder, could be swallowed and had an incredible healing effect. They had never fully understood quite how the plant worked, every time they had encountered it in their adventures they had always been too grateful to query it.

Jill voiced the question that was in both their minds.

"So what are they doing here?"

"It looks like they were expecting trouble."

"No.." Jill argued, "these haven't been prepared. I think they were growing them."

Chris growled.

"Another puzzle. Great."

Jill was silent. There was something about her that made Chris pause.

"Jill?"

She took a deep breath.

"There's something else." she said.

"What?"

"What am I wearing, Chris?"

Chris looked puzzled.

"Shoes..blouse..skirt..er.."

"And under it?"

Chris drew in breath to answer and his mind suddenly snapped back to earlier at the cafe.

"Oh." he said simply.

"Exactly. I'd forgotten until I crouched down just now."

Chris's eyes drifted to her skirt line. The garment was short and simple, nothing more than a thin layer of fabric being all that hid...despite the situation, he couldn't help feeling himself becoming a little aroused. Jill saw the look in his eye and burst out laughing.

"Well..," she said, "I guess I have even more incentive not to die here, haven't I?"

* * *

><p>The telephone was insistent.<p>

She tried ignoring it but it clearly wasn't going to go away. She reached out a reluctant arm and picked up the handset.

"Hello?" she mumbled.

"Claire? It's Leon, I need you."

Claire felt a cold shock run up her spine. She had been in the middle of a very intense dream. Leon was on the verge of declaring his undying love for her when the phone interrupted him. For a few manic heartbeats she wondered if she was still asleep..or if the dream hadn't been a dream at all.

To think that Leon had finally opened his eyes to the undeniable truth in front of him...to think that he nee..

"Claire? Are you there? For God's sake, this is important!"

"I'm here, I'm here," she replied, "and I've never been happier."

"Happier? How could you be happy with this? It's terrible." said Leon.

Claire frowned, a worrying feeling creeping over her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"What are YOU talking about?" Leon shot back.

There was an awkward pause. Claire ran a hand over her face, trying to wake up.

"What do you want, Leon?" she said.

His reply ensured she wouldn't be going back to sleep that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon

by Ticklefish

* * *

><p>Asil was a level 2 administrator.<p>

He wore brown shoes with scuffed toes and one heel badly worn. His trousers were grey with a thin, black pinstripe and were help up by a black belt. The belt's buckle was silver and had a picture of an eagle on it. His shirt was white and had been neatly ironed. His tie was silk and a delicate shade of blue.

There was a plastic name badge clipped to the exact middle of his shirt pocket. The name badge had enough information on it that any onlooker would have been able to instantly ascertain who Asil was and what role he had.

Probably the first thing an onlooker would have noticed, however, was that Asil had no head.

Chris stood up and looked down at the corpse he had been examining.

"It's a clean wound. Somebody cut his head off in one stroke."

Jill gave Asil's neck a quick glance.

"Or bit it off." she offered.

Chris heaved a sigh.

"Boy, am I glad you said that." he said.

* * *

><p>The door in the lobby slammed open and Claire stormed through.<p>

Behind the front desk, Eric lunged for his monitor screen and hit the power button. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.

Claire didn't care. Without giving him a second glance, she strode past and stabbed at the elevator call button. After a few seconds there was a jaunty 'ping' and the set of doors to her left opened. Claire stepped in and the doors closed behind her.

Eric fell back into his chair.

Typical American, he thought, shaking his head.

He turned back to his desk and flicked the button on the monitor. On the screen were two people, both of them naked. The identity of the man wasn't clear but the woman's face was clearly that of Agent Sheva. As Eric watched, the man took his oiled hand and started to..

"Why can't I get to the armory?"

Eric spun his chair round. Claire was standing behind him, an annoyed look on her face.

"I..er.." he sputtered.

"The armory," Claire repeated, "the elevator won't let me get there. Why?"

Eric swallowed.

"It's locked out this late. I'd have to buzz you in."

"Well, get on with it then. I'm in a hurry."

Eric could feel himself on more familiar ground.

"No can do, I'm afraid. At your level, you'd need authorization from the Director."

"Well, ring him then and get authorization." Claire growled.

Eric relaxed. This was something he knew well. He had worked at this desk for too long to be pushed around by any upstart agents, no matter what their surnames were.

"It's far too early. You'll have to wait until the morning."

Claire's eyes narrowed. Despite himself, Eric started to feel a little worried. Claire wasn't particularly tall or powerfully built and she didn't have anywhere near the reputation that her brother did. But there was something about the look in her eyes that made him start to wish he had called in sick.

"Look," Claire said, leaning on the arms of Eric's chair, "I have had a very unpleasant day which capped off an extremely unpleasant week. I have had very little sleep and I've just received some very bad news."

She paused, making sure Eric understood her every word fully.

"Now, either you let me into the armory right this instant or there will be nothing in Hell itself that will be anywhere near as unpleasant as what I will do to you."

Eric hesitated. Claire moved in closer and he felt himself squirm deeper into the chair, trying to escape the intensity of her glare.

"And, of course, the very first thing I'll do is tell the Director about that."

She nodded at the monitor and Eric knew he was lost.

* * *

><p>The second floor held no real surprises.<p>

Chris and Jill had gone through every room and every corridor and had discovered nothing.

Nothing at all.

No people, no furniture, no equipment, nothing.

The only thing that the floor possessed were a series of short cubicle walls arranged in a tight circle. Jill had gone on tiptoe to bend over them and take a look on the other side. Despite the strangeness of the situation, Chris had been unable to stop himself from giving her exposed bottom a quick bite.

Now, as they were climbing the stairs to the third floor, Chris checked that Jill wasn't watching and took the opportunity to rub his cheek. Jill had given him a playful slap for his impertinence. The look on her face said she was being playful but the slap was anything but. Clearly she didn't know her own strength, ruminated Chris, still...it was worth it.

The door off the stairwell led onto a large, open hall which stretched almost to the other side of the building. Scattered about it were assorted closets, desks and unidentifiable pieces of lab equipment. And a collection of dead bodies.

Without saying a word ,the two agents moved across the hall, their guns trained on any and every potential target. It looked clear but they were too experienced to take it for granted.

As they moved, a small part of Chris's mind marveled at how in unison they were. They had always worked well together, that was why they had become partners in the first place, but now it seemed like they were just two parts of the same body. With every move that one made, the other one moved to cover them. They didn't need to say anything, it was as though they already knew exactly what the other thought.

Jill examined each corpse as they went past. They were all different. Men, women, black, white. But they all had one thing in common. Each one had no head and the heads were nowhere to be seen.

"At least we don't have to worry about zombies." Jill commented when it became apparent that they were the only ones in the room.

"Well, that's a plus at least." replied Chris.

"So what do you think happened here?"

"It's obvious. They all went crazy."

Jill frowned.

"Why do you say that?"

"Can't you tell? They all lost their heads."

Jill stared at Chris for a few seconds then turned her back on him and started examining the equipment on a nearby desk. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to reply, Chris shrugged and decided to see what he could find out.

A loud, metallic thump came from the far end of the hall. Instantly, Chris and Jill had their guns pointed but there was nothing to see.

After a few seconds a second thump, louder than the first, rang out. Whatever was making them was clearly big, strong and not in a very good mood. They looked at each other and quickly hid behind the nearest closet.

A third thump was heard, followed by a metallic clang and the sound of something big breathing heavily.

Chris slid his head round the side of the closet. At the other end of the room was another closet. One of its doors was lying on the floor, presumably the source of the clang. The source of the breathing was a tall humanoid figure. Dressed in a long trench coat, not much of it could be seen but what there was, was ugly.

Chris slowly drew his head back and whispered to his partner: "Okay, this could be trouble."

Jill cocked her head in curiosity and poked her head round her side of the closet. She gave a sharp intake of breath and quickly brought her head back.

"That's not possible." she said in a horrified tone.

"What? Why not?" asked Chris.

"I've already killed that thing once."

Her eyes were wide and Chris realized he hadn't seen her this alarmed for a long time.

"What is it?" he insisted.

"It's Nemesis."

* * *

><p>"It's Sherry."<p>

Leon's voice had been curt and urgent.

"What's sherry?"

Claire's mind still hadn't quite caught up and for a moment she had wondered if somehow Leon had come for a visit the night before and she had stolen all his spirits.

"She's been kidnapped."

With a thud, everything had clicked into place.

Claire had run into Sherry Birkin while she was trying to make her way out of a zombie-infested Raccoon City. She had worked hard to protect the child, although there had been a few close scrapes. When the two of them, along with Leon, had gotten clear, Sherry had found herself without a home and without a family.

Her parents had been prominent researchers for Umbrella and the government wanted to keep an eye on her.

Just in case.

She hadn't shown any signs of infection, genetic-tampering or anything that Umbrella had been notorious for but they placed her in a secure location and surrounded her with the best that the secret service could throw at her.

Just in case.

In the years that had passed, Sherry had lived a very closely-monitored life with very little privacy even though by all accounts she was a perfectly normal child.

Again, just in case.

Now she was a young woman and all the precautions of the American government had apparently proved to be fruitless.

"What happened?" Claire had asked, her mind now fully awake.

There had been a pause and then Leon explained.

It turned out that he didn't really know very much. The agents that had protected Sherry from the outside world (or protected the outside world from her, Claire had thought more than once) had been found dead. Who or whatever had killed them had done it quickly and violently. Sherry was nowhere to be seen and neither were the CCTV recordings.

Since she had been taken from a supposedly highly secure location, the authorities were not keen for the incident to be known about.

Leon had only found out when he had dropped round for a visit. His status as a Presidential representative had allowed him to find out a little of what had happened but nobody really knew much in the first place.

"And that's why I need you." Leon had said.

"Why? I don't think I can help. This is the first I've heard about any of this." she had replied reluctantly.

Claire had been very fond of Sherry and was upset about her disappearance but she didn't really see what she could do about it.

"They're not going to do anything about it until they hear from the kidnappers. They haven't heard anything for a week but they still won't do anything."

"Why not?"

Leon had laughed bitterly.

"The daughter of two top Umbrella scientists is taken from a top-rated safehouse. Imagine the scandal if that got out. The authorities are worried that people will complain about their mis-spent tax dollars. They're more worried about their jobs than they are about her."

"So what can I do?" asked Claire.

"You're the only one I can trust on this. You can focus on finding her and not on improving your career."

Claire had riled a little. It was true, her career wasn't important. She was only with the BSAA because of what they did. That, and she really couldn't stay with Terra Save. Still, she didn't like the idea of Leon thinking that.

"Plus," Leon continued, "I need your Terra Save connections. I don't doubt for a second that she was taken because of her connection with Umbrella. The BSAA is too official for this."

A little surprised that Leon had mentioned her old organization just after she had thought of them herself, Claire had had to take a moment to get her thoughts in order.

"Besides," Leon had added before she could speak, "the President wants your help."

Claire thought for a second. She had already known the answer but she hadn't wanted Leon to think that he could just click his fingers and she'd come running.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she had said, "I just need to get some stuff from work."


	4. Chapter 4

Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon

by Ticklefish

* * *

><p>Nemesis.<p>

Jill's blood ran cold.

Over the years, she had faced all manner of vicious creatures and mutations. The fact that she was still standing and they weren't was testament to her skills. But Nemesis was one of the few monsters she still had nightmares about.

It had chased her relentlessly across Raccoon after remorselessly killing its way through the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. unit. With ease, it had shrugged off all that she could fire at it and there were moments where Jill wondered if she was going to survive. She hadn't known what it was called back then, of course, but some digging through Umbrella's files a few years later had told Jill more than enough. She had survived but she was incredibly lucky.

"I thought you blew it up." Chris's questioning voice broke into her thoughts.

"I did. Smacked it right in the face with a railgun. There was nothing left!"

The sound of heavy footsteps just a few meters away suggested that she might not have smacked it hard enough.

Chris weighed up his options. He'd never come up against Nemesis but Jill had told him a lot about it. Their pistols would probably be just as effective if they threw them at it.

The door that they had originally entered from was the only visible way out of the hall. Unfortunately, between the closet and the door was a large open expanse of floor. There didn't seem to be any escape. He looked at Jill and could see that she had reached pretty much the same conclusion. They looked into each others eyes as the footsteps got closer.

There is one way, thought Chris.

It was a crazy thought but it seemed to be the only solution. He would have to be a decoy. With any luck, he could give Jill enough time to get away.

He would never see her again.

Chris felt a cold, twisting in his gut at the thought and quickly shut down on it.

What had to be done had to be done, there was no other..and Jill stepped out from behind the closet.

Chris dived after her, missing her leg by a fraction of an inch, and fell to the floor. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as Jill ran towards the hulking creature before her, waving her gun and screaming at the top of her lungs. Nemesis was clearly taken by surprise but it was surely only a matter of seconds before it came to its senses and swatted the woman like a fly.

"JILL!" Chris cried in horror.

Nemesis moved.

It took one look at the onrushing woman and screamed. Before Chris had even registered what had happened, the creature had crouched down, folded its arms over its head and hidden its face in its knees.

Jill stumbled to a halt.

She wasn't quite certain what to do. Where a few seconds previously had stood a seven foot tall being of death, there now was a large ball with the faint but unmistakable sound of whimpering coming from it.

The last Nemesis had had all manner of surprises up its sleeves. Literally, in fact. But trying to hide from its enemies by curling into a ball was a new one.

"What's going on?" came Chris's voice, thick with concern.

"I've no idea."

He joined her and stood by her side. Moving cautiously, he extended her gun towards Nemesis's neck. As the metal touched its skin, Nemesis drew even tighter and started to shake.

"Erm..." Jill began, not entirely willing to believe what she was about to say.

Chris beat her to it.

"Is this thing actually scared of you?"

Jill didn't answer straight away. She had been through a lot during the years since her last encounter with Nemesis (a Nemesis, she corrected herself) but she wasn't that intimidating.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the closet that Nemesis had been in. It was made out of thin steel with no special locks or securing equipment. She looked closer. The door that Nemesis had punched out lay on the ground on top of a dead body. The body was twisted strangely. Looking back at Nemesis, she felt the facts dance in her mind, arranging themselves into the only possible solution.

"You were hiding, weren't you?"

"I would have thought that was obvious."

"No, Chris, I mean, well..I don't think it was hiding in ambush, I think it was properly hiding."

"You've lost me." Chris still had his weapon pointed steadily at the back of Nemesis's neck.

Jill indicated the fallen closet door.

"Look at the way that's fallen. That body was in front of it. That's what all the thumping was about, Nemesis was stuck. The closet's far too thin to force it into, it had to have gone in voluntarily."

"Yes, gone in there to lay a trap."

Chris wasn't convinced.

"No. Think. Headless bodies don't just rain out of the sky. There's no way it could have placed a body in such a way to wedge the door closed if it had closed it behind itself."

Chris paused, trying to work out exactly what she had said.

"And then there's this."

She pointed at the quivering mass in front of them. While they had been talking, Nemesis had made no move towards them. Since the last one she had gone up against hadn't wasted any time at all in trying to kill her, she felt herself relaxing a little.

"I don't know..," Chris said, "I don't trust any of this."

Jill didn't reply. Instead she took one closer to the curled-up creature, gently but firmly moved Chris's weapon away from its neck and placed her hand on its arm. Chris kept a watchful eye, ready for any suspicious movements but Nemesis had gone completely still. Then, slowly, warily, it raised its head.

Just like the previous one, it only had one eye. Unlike its predecessor though, this particular Nemesis was crying.

* * *

><p>In the skies over the Atlantic Ocean, a mass of steel and plastic barged its way through the clouds.<p>

Four mighty Boeing engines provided enough thrust for the airplane to laugh in the face of the laws of gravity. Thousands of dollars of hi-tech equipment continually monitored its progress, adjusting here, altering there, all to ensure that the plane was safer flying through the air than it would ever be back on the lowly ground.

All of this was lost on Claire who had the windowblind down and was clutching her armrest, desperately trying to convince herself that she was on the bus.

When they were children, Chris used to tease her about all the possible dangers that air travel had to offer. Rarely a day went by without him crashing a toy plane into something. When he joined the Air Force, things didn't get any better. His letters would often mention just how narrowly he avoided disaster. She swore he made up most of it, but it didn't help.

Flying was just not for her.

"Ooh, I love flying. Don't you? I think it's just terrific. Oh yes."

Claire turned to her left. A small old lady was sitting next to her with a benign smile on her face. The strong aroma of something minty emanated from her.

"I'm not really a big fan." said Claire.

"I know! It's incredible. To think we're this close," the old lady held her fingers an inch apart, "to touching God Himself. It's amazing."

"We're not really that far up."

"And it's all so smooth and efficient. It's wonderful."

"I don't really like thinking about it, to be honest."

"Yup! We're like birds themselves."

Claire started to get a sneaking feeling.

"Er..there's a good chance we're all about to die."

"Although my cats probably wouldn't like to chase after this bird! Oh my no."

"We'll all burn to death."

"Oh, they're little devils for birds, they are."

"The heat will be so intense, even our bones will melt."

"Would you like a peppermint?"

Claire gave up and put her earphones on. She'd already seen the in-flight movie several times before but at least it might possibly keep her mind off the multitude of things that could go wrong with every second.

A muffled voice could just be heard.

"My cats don't like peppermints. Aren't they just silly?"

* * *

><p>Chris ran his fingers through his hair.<p>

The last hour had been a little strange. Actually, strange didn't really do it justice but he was at a loss for anything better.

After Jill had seen Nemesis crying, whatever feelings she had towards it had changed. Chris had been instructed to search the area for clues while she took a box of tissues from her bag and started cleaning the creature up.

Chris hadn't really given his investigation his full attention and his hand was never far from his weapon. Nothing had happened though. Nemesis had stayed completely still while Jill tended to it. There wasn't much she could have done to improve its face but she tried her best. At her touch, the tears had slowed and then stopped. Nemesis now sat on the floor making a soft, almost purring noise.

Chris had examined the closet in which it had been hiding. There wasn't much to find. The space was empty, save for a small, half-dried puddle that smelt suspiciously like urine.

Putting two and two together, it wasn't too hard to realize that Nemesis had wet itself whilst hiding. It was things like that which made it seem all the less of a threat.

Which made Chris even more distrustful.

Then Jill had discovered the notebook.

It had been in a pocket in Nemesis' trench coat. The book was dirty and tattered but there was enough of it left to shed some light. It had belonged to one of the researchers who had worked in the building and on Nemesis in particular. Jill read through it, her lips silently moving as she tried to make sense of the author's handwriting. After a while, she had looked up at Chris and frowned.

"He's a failure." she had said.

"A failure?"

"It says here that they had tried to improve on the design but something had gone wrong. The original subject," her mouth curled in distaste ,she knew exactly how the 'subjects' had been obtained, "had been intellectually sub-optimal."

"You mean, he was thick."

"No, I mean, he was, he was.."

Jill's hand had waved in the air as she tried to find the right word. Chris cleared his throat.

"Er..retarded?"

Jill had given him a look.

"That's not a nice word, Chris. But..well..anyway, physically he was perfect. Strong, fast, everything. But terrified of violence. He was so passive, they couldn't get him to fight anything. Looks like they were planning to dispose of him in the next few days."

So he, Chris noted with amusement that Jill had automatically stopped calling Nemesis 'it', wasn't a threat. That was good but it still left too many questions unanswered. The notebook indicated that the Hermit Club had obtained Nemesis from Umbrella but didn't say how.

And it still didn't explain what he had been hiding from. Something had killed everybody in the room and it wasn't Nemesis. Chris didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"We should get him out of here." Jill stood up and brushed the dust off her skirt.

"No we shouldn't. He's a bioweapon. We should leave him right here and blow up the place behind us."

"He was a bioweapon. No, he was a person. A victim. We can't just leave him here. Besides, he's a clue to solving all this."

"We don't need any more clues, we need answers."

"Chris, it's not his fault he is what he is. We should do the right thing."

Jill placed her hands on her hips. In doing so, her fingers brushed against her skirt, tightening the fabric and emphasizing her curves, reminding Chris what was underneath.

He thought for a few moments.

"Fine." he said, "but he's your responsibility."

"Of course."

Jill smiled to herself. Sometimes you just had to know which buttons to press.


	5. Chapter 5

Best Laid Plans II - An Inferior Moon

by Ticklefish

* * *

><p>lady was friendly.<p>

nemesis had been so scared when nemesis had seen the people fall down and not get up.

nemesis still remembered the sounds. the crunching the screaming the paining.

nemesis had hid in magic wardrobe but doctor jaffer had lied.

magic wardrobe wasnt magic.

there was no magic land in it.

there was no potty either.

nemesis hated needing to go potty if there was no potty.

nemesis hated nasty paining more.

but lady was nice.

lady looked after nemesis.

lady was kind.

lady stopped big man from paining nemesis.

nemesis couldnt remember when someone was kind to nemesis.

nemesis thought this must be the christmas that people talked about.

* * *

><p>"..message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."<p>

Josh Stone placed the phone back in its cradle. For the last few days he had been trying to talk to somebody but the closest he had come to hearing her voice was on her ansafone.

She didn't answer her doorbell, in fact Josh wasn't even sure she was there to hear it. Not for the first time, he marveled at how somebody could just disappear so easily.

Josh and Sheva had worked together for years but lately he had come to wonder if there couldn't be something more to their relationship. Everything had been still very up in the air and then she had vanished.

Officially, he didn't know why. Unofficially, he had a pretty good idea. Last year, Sheva had taken part in a series of photo and videoshoots. They started with standard modeling but then progressed to harder and harder pornography. Eric at the office had fallen over himself to show Josh everything. Josh didn't really want to see but hadn't averted his eyes fast enough. He had caught a glimpse but that was enough. When he wasn't paying attention, the vision of Sheva's bare bosom drifted into his mind.

Guiltily pushed back down again but it always kept coming back.

Why did she do it?

That was the question being asked by those who found out about it. The bosses had hushed it up but rumor and scuttlebutt are hard to kill.

Josh didn't really care why she did it, he just wanted to know she was okay. But Sheva was gone. No-one knew where she was or how to get hold of her. Josh had already called her number and left countless messages. There really wasn't any point trying again.

Josh knew this and understood it.

He picked up his phone and started dialing.

"Hey, this is Sheva, I'm not here at the moment..."

* * *

><p>They had made it back to the green herbs before Jill remembered that the back door was impassable. Muttering darkly under his breath, Chris had turned on his heel and headed back into the bowels of the building, Nemesis trudging meekly behind.<p>

At the very far end of the hall on the third floor stood a wide, empty filing cabinet very nearly the same color as the rear wall. When they had first entered, their eyes had glanced over it without giving it much attention. It was separate from everything else and looked thoroughly unimportant.

This was probably deliberate as at the back of it, hidden between it and the wall, was a trapdoor set flush into the floor. The handle was smeared with blood.

Jill did not take Chris's suggestion that Nemesis go first as a shield at all well.

The trapdoor led to a ladder. The ladder led to a narrow stairwell lit sparsely by a series of erratically-functioning fluorescent bulbs. Jill and Chris both drew their weapons and proceeded downwards slowly and carefully.

Their caution was unwarranted however, the stairwell was empty.

Well, mostly empty.

Empty save for the body that was scattered across the steps between the first and ground floors.

"Found his legs." Jill declared.

"Found his torso and one arm."

"Any head?"

"No head."

The name badge declared the body to belong to a doctor of some sort. Exactly who wasn't entirely clear but they seemed to have particularly annoyed whom, or what, had killed their colleagues upstairs. He had held a gun but it hadn't done him any good, his body had been ripped apart. And, like all the others, the head was missing.

Upon seeing the body, Nemesis had let out a low, oddly purring wail and hid his face in his hands. Chris volunteered to scout on ahead while Jill kept an eye on him.

Chris's muscles were taut, his finger tense against the trigger of his gun. As he disappeared round the bend of the stairs, Jill wondered precisely what she was doing.

Nemesis was an unwitting victim and didn't deserve just to be left to die. Still, from a tactical perspective she was being incredibly sloppy. With that thought going round her head, she kept a very tight hold on her weapon and strained her senses, concentrating so hard she almost thought she could hear the movements of the very air.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chris returned. Jill had heard his approach and made sure she wasn't pointing her weapon in his direction. There had been an issue a little while ago involving Chris, Jill and an inappropriate bullet and she had no desire for an encore.

"Well?" she asked.

Chris shrugged.

"Nothing, this just opens onto an alleyway which opens onto the main street. There's still lots of people milling around. Whatever did all this is long gone."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Nothing left but another mystery."

"Your favorite."

"Yes..." Chris growled, "so what do we do about him?"

With his gun, he gestured at Nemesis who hadn't removed his hands from his face since originally putting them on there. Jill frowned and scratched her chin in thought.

"How good are you at holding hands?" she asked.

* * *

><p>It was only on the way back to the hotel, she and Chris each holding one of Nemesis's large hands in one of their own, that it occurred to Jill to wonder just what happened to the other agents.<p>

The whole reason they were there in secret in the first place was because the BSAA had assigned the investigation to other people.

The location of the building wasn't secret, there was every reason to suspect that the BSAA would have gotten there by now.

And yet, neither Chris nor Jill had spotted any sign of them since arriving in the city.

Nemesis stumbled on an uneven flagstone and almost dragged them down with him. Jill recovered first and quickly moved to adjust the being's makeshift disguise.

By the time they resumed walking the question of the other agents had gone completely from her mind.

* * *

><p>Claire was surprised to find that she had had a really good flight.<p>

Her neighbor had continued to natter about all manner of inane subjects, the in-flight movies were all ones she had seen, the food was bland and possibly artificial and the seat had apparently been designed to make sleep almost, but not entirely, impossible.

But the plane hadn't crashed and she was still in one piece. As far as she was concerned, that made it the best flight ever.

She had collected her baggage from the carousel with only a little difficulty. The case full of weapons had to be collected from a special counter and the official who stood behind it clearly didn't want to believe that a mere girl could possibly have the right clearance. Claire had fought her temper and forced a polite smile on her face.

Now, as she wheeled her trolley towards the exit, she wondered just why she was so angry lately. Ten years ago, when she had her first encounter with bioweapons, she was a lot more cheerful and optimistic. Since then, she had seen a lot and had a lot happen to her but she had always thought that it hadn't affected her that much.

As she rounded the corner and saw the mass of people waiting to greet her fellow passengers, she realized it was just one thing that was making her so short-tempered. Standing by the barrier, arms crossed, watchful eyes under a medium-length blonde fringe was the form of Leon Kennedy.

Claire's heart started to race and she could feel the blood running to her cheeks. Get a grip, she angrily told herself, you're a professional so act like one!

Leon looked on dispassionately, his mouth a thin line. Clearly he hadn't seen her. She took a deep breath and pushed her trolley towards him.

She was within a few feet of him when he noticed the motion, his head snapped round and his eyes met hers. His expression didn't change.

"Hello." she said with devastating originality.

"Claire. A good flight?"

"I've had better."

Leon nodded in reply.

"Right. Let's go."

With that, he turned round and walked off. After a few steps, he realized that he was on his own. He turned back and saw that Claire hadn't moved.

"Problem?"

Claire paused. There wasn't enough breath in her body to say what she wanted to say. Not that she knew what she wanted to say.

But she knew that Leon..that Leon..that he couldn't just take her so for granted, that's what.

"I've probably lost my job because of this. I've had a long flight and I've had a longer couple of weeks."

"Okay.." said Leon, a puzzled tone in his voice.

"I'm doing you a favor here. The least you could do is appreciate that."

"I do."

"So what's with the attitude?"

Leon looked surprised.

"I don't have an attitude. We can't afford to waste any time here, Sherry's counting on us. This isn't a social event. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

And she did. But that wasn't the point.

"Well, then." said Leon. " Let's go. I'll brief you in the car."

With that, he turned back and walked away. This time, he didn't look back.

Claire got a grip on the baggage trolley and, thinking extremely black thoughts, followed him out of the airport.

* * *

><p>"You've reached Jill Valentine's cellphone. If you leave a message, I might get back to you."<p>

"Jill, it's Josh. Ring me as soon as you can. It's urgent. Something's happened. I can't go into details but you and Chris can NOT show your faces round here. You two are public enemies number one! Call me the instant you get this!"

* * *

><p>Darkness.<p>

Darkness is what you get when there is no light.

But this was different.

This was a darkness so complete it seemed impossible that there could ever have been light anywhere near it.

It seemed to blank all the senses. All sounds were swallowed whole by it. There was nothing to see, nothing to feel. It was void, complete and total. Nothing whatsoever.

Except a voice.

Small, reedy, tentative.

"Mistress?"

A second voice. Confident and strong with a strange harmonic.

"Speak."

"The girl is back in America. Just as you planned."

"And her brother?"

"Steps have been taken. He shall not prove a problem."

The second voice growled.

"He was never a problem."

"Yes, Mistress. Of course."

"Leave me."

Minutes passed and then the second voice spoke again.

"Finally, Claire. Finally, I will have my revenge. And I will make you suffer."


End file.
